Heaven
by Ankhasia Riddle
Summary: General Winter's wrath is taken by Russia. But he can't take it forever...RussCan. MASSIVE ENORMOUS WARNING: Character Death. No prizes for guessing who. First in 'Music Heals'


**Yes I did it again. I would like to point out that I cried writing this one.**

**If you thought this was an update, I'm sorry. I've been warned that unfortunatley, song lyrics are not allowed if Fics! Ah well...you will just have to 'keep the song in mind', as the 'warner', so to speak, said.**

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><p>Russia sat, in a dark, dark room.<p>

The wind outside was terrible, drowning out any noise he could make.

Winter was before him, ice-cold fingertips brushed his chest, lower.

Russia was unable to move. Frozen with fear, he was helpless.

The gentle touch turned to an iron-grip, forcing him against the table, his jaw slamming on wood. He tasted blood, and tried to scream.

The wind mercilessly ate his attempts to cry for help.

Pain seared through him, and shame at not being able to resist. Winter relentlessly thrust against Ivan, and tears pricked at his eyes.

After what was probably a few minutes, but felt like years, Winter stood again, rearranging his clothes, and left, chuckling.

Russia hung his head, the only comfort to him left, that he was alone in suffering. Only he was to feel the sadistic wrath of Winter. Not his sisters, not the Baltics, not his friends.

Just him.

Shame overcame him in his loneliness, and a tear rolled down his pale, pale cheek.

…

The following morning, Russia made sure to arrive at the meeting before everyone else. He would not have them seeing his limp, the painful wince as he sat down.

He would not have them see him weak.

Gradually the others began to filter in, and soon enough, the meeting was on it's way.

Bored, Russia put his hand inside his coat for vodka, but something sharp cut his finger.

Hissing angrily, he sucked at his finger, and looked around to make sure he had no onlookers. Everyone was, or at least pretending to be, enraptured by what England had to say.

Slowly, he felt around the object, and discovered a cold blade, and eventually, a handle.

'_Must have kept this for emergencies…Belarus probably.'_

Silently, he started to take it out, once again checking no-one was watching. A bouncy curl caught his eye, and a teddy bear.

'_Matvey…he hates me too. Why, why am I so hated?'_

Ivan closed his eyes, thinking only of their faked smiles whenever he was around. An idea touched the edge of his fractured mind.

'_Da…I will do that.'_

Running his fingers along the handle, he drew the dagger out fully and placed it on his lap. Then, once again looking around, he rested the blade on his arm.

'_Weak…can't even do this…'_

Angrily, he slashed at his arm, blood pouring out and soaking his left trouser leg. For a second he closed his eyes, satisfaction filling him for less than that.

…

After about three quarters of an hour, he looked around, suddenly woozy.

Somehow Japan had been elected to talk now, and everyone was still as silent and as good-natured as before.

Then America jumps up, scared written all over his face.

"Dude, what is that dripping!"

A pool of blood had emulated around Russia's feet.

Russia smiled, slightly, and collapsed.

…

Bright lights, a rumbling.

He was moving, fast. Wheeled on a trolley through hospital.

A familiar face above him.

"Matvey..."

"Russia? Russia! Don't try to talk-"

"Matvey…"

"Matvey…I love…"

"You."

Canada, running alongside him, shouted in reply.

"Ivan! No, you will not say goodbye!"

Canada's curl bounced beside his head.

His name, over and over.

IVAN IVAN Ivan Ivan ivan ivan…

"Ivan! Please!-"

"Matvey…"

Canada's face was stricken with fear.

"Russia! Stay awake!"

IVAN IVAN Ivan Ivan ivan ivan…

The lights grew brighter.

"Ivan! I love you!"

Russia had love.

Hands held his, tighter than tight.

IVAN IVAN Ivan Ivan ivan ivan…

Canada looked desperately into his eyes, both pairs shining with tears.

"Ivan?"

Canada suddenly tripped, falling behind the rushing trolley, screaming Russia's name.

The hands were gone.

Ivan was alone.

In the silence, in the last seconds, Russia looked wildly around for something, anything.

Then, purple eyes, so very purple, widened, and faded.

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><p><strong>Review? Please?<strong>

**...but you know where flames go.**


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